


rewind

by meian



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon, Drabble, M/M, Post-lawsuit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meian/pseuds/meian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Skype call a few months later. Minseok doesn't want to admit how difficult this is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rewind

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in January. This...was originally intended to be webcam sex but it just became a sad not-porn because I don't love myself, apparently.

"Stop moving around so much. You're wearing my eyeballs out," Minseok drawls, squinting at Lu Han's pixelated form wriggling across the computer screen. He spies an old DBSK poster behind his head. Childhood remnants. By now, the surroundings have become familiar to him. But, still, it's strange not to have him _there_. "Are you wearing my sweatshirt?"

Lu Han gazes down at himself and gets a faint whiff of Minseok's cologne still lingering amidst the threads. He huddles into himself further and folds his arms across his chest. "No," he grins cheekily, "it's mine." Minseok rolls his eyes. He's too worn out to argue about it - in the middle of touring at least.

They've got an early rehearsal before the show tomorrow, and he really should be getting to sleep now, but this...even though Lu Han had been the one to call, Minseok really needs this, as well. Because while most days he feels somewhat unbalanced, like this he can at least feel the phantom weight, clinging to his arm like a limpet.

Minseok sighs, his lips curling into a fond smile. "You look really good, you know."

"Shut up," Lu Han stutters, but he's smiling shyly into his lap. He'd never been good with compliments, but the reaction is worth it even if Minseok can't see his blush through the computer. "No offense, but you look like shit."

Minseok sends him an unamused look. He certainly feels like shit. He can practically feel the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion pulsing through his muscles. "Tell me something I don't know," he grumbles.

"You have a heart-shaped birthmark on your ass," Lu Han says, completely solemn. Minseok crooks an eyebrow. "Okay, fine, I got that from a drama." Lu Han laughs way too hard at his own joke, his face crumpling unattractively, but it's perhaps the side of him Minseok has always liked best. No holds barred, unabashedly himself. And sitting in his childhood room where it's the most himself he could ever be, it's nice. And maybe it's better that way.

"Then...I bet you don't know how much I want you right now."

And, yet, maybe it's not.

Minseok's eyes fall shut, and his heart clenches. He's pretty sure they're about even on this one, but he doesn't like to dwell on it. The teasing, at least, is comfortable. Makes it just that much easier to breathe. Makes it easier to pretend things are like before. The heaviness, however, he tries to avoid if only because it makes the distance more palpable when the only one he can reach out and feel is himself.

But Lu Han's eyes are earnest and unmoving, fixated on his through the shoddy webcam. "Come here." His voice comes through warped and tinny on the speakers. It's really not the same.

Minseok scoots closer to the camera. It's not the same.

"I mean, _here_ here," Lu Han says with a shake of his head, hair flopping about his face. It's grown out quite a bit, length bordering on mullet territory, but it looks softer and fuller now without the harsh dyes. Minseok tamps down the urge to bury his fingers in it, can already hear Lu Han's whine when he ruffles it out of place.

In reality, he knows he'd never be able to make it out the door before he had a manager breathing down his neck. Or a stalker. "This is the best I can do, you know that."

Lu Han leans back in his chair and sighs wistfully. "You'd love it here, though. My mom's a great cook." He talks about his mother a lot now. Both of his parents, really. Minseok knows things had been rocky back in Seoul, had listened in on his fair share of phone calls, had spent enough nights as a shoulder to lean on.

And this is why he hates the longing and the pining and the heaviness over his heart because there are just some things bigger than himself, aren't there? There's no room to be selfish, even if he can't exactly help the way he feels, no matter how hard he tries. No matter how deep down he buries it, the rain just keeps bringing everything back to the surface.

He's not ready to deal with it. "You're happy, right?" Minseok asks, changing the subject abruptly. Lu Han shoots him a knowing look.

He gently lowers his chair back down to the floor and sends a slightly pained expression back at him. It's not the response he was hoping to get. "You know, I thought I'd feel less like a puzzle with a piece missing when I got back home, but it's like I lost another in the search."

Minseok swallows around the lump in his throat. He shakes his head and pastes a grin over his face. "You haven't lost me." Though, he says it like he's trying to convince himself, most of all. "You, of all people, would never let yourself lose me."

The heaviness dissipates a bit with Lu Han's chuckle, his face scrunched up once again. "That's true. I'll keep you forever. Right here." He pokes a finger at the wrong side of his chest. Minseok snorts.

"Your right lung?"

"It's _your_ left, okay?!"

"Whatever you say!"

It's easy to fall back into the banter, though Minseok's smile doesn't quite meet his eyes. If Lu Han can tell, then he doesn't say, and he's grateful.

He'll let himself bask in this bliss instead, however fleeting. Let himself fall asleep to a grainy face on a computer screen, and he knows it will be gone in the morning, but it's alright. He'll savor the moment, pretend things are as they were before, and everything will be alright. And he'll tell himself the same when he wakes up.

It's better off this way.


End file.
